


Professional Interest

by leiascully



Category: British Actor RPF, Doctor Who RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-24
Updated: 2013-06-24
Packaged: 2017-12-16 02:25:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/856686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt wants to make sure that Alex didn't mind being on top of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Professional Interest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sandbar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandbar/gifts).



> Timeline: during the filming of "Time of Angels"  
> A/N: Sometimes stories just happen. For Sandbar, for her patience with my many comments.  
> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction that bears no resemblance to and claims no knowledge of the people about whom it is written.

It's grey and drizzly and Alex is hiding in her trailer with a cup of tea. The chill gets into her after a while. At least it's warmer here than at that beach. It was a pretty picture, River Song clambering across the rocks with her heels dangling from one hand, but it wasn't much fun. Today's been better: today she's flown, which was brilliant, and she's gotten to tumble over the lanky new Doctor a number of times, which was very nearly as brilliant. He seems quite clever - having her land on him was fairly inspired. The first take was strange, but by the last one, it was clear that he was enjoying himself just as much as she was. The physical evidence was certainly there, and she can't say she minded the way he ran his hands over her.

No, she didn't mind it in the least. She sips at her tea and daydreams for a moment. He's got good hands. They were warm through the dress she's wearing. She liked the way he touched her: confident but respectful. And why shouldn't he have been confident, given that she was sprawled all over him. She smiles to herself. 

There's a knock at her trailer door. She opens it and there's Smith, still in his Doctor clothes, peering up at her through his hair. 

"Hello," she says. "Do they need me?"

He blinks at her, opens his mouth, and then closes it. "I was going to have a clever response to that."

She smirks at him. "Well?"

He shakes his head. "It doesn't seem to be happening."

"And here's me thinking you were a professional flirt," she teases.

"Oi, even a professional can have an off day," he protests.

"Come in and have some tea," she tells him. "We'll work on your technique. Otherwise it's going to be a long shoot, isn't it."

He climbs into her trailer and perches on the extra chair. She puts on the electric kettle and gets out a teabag and a mug.

"About earlier," he says. 

"I nearly kneed you somewhere unforgivable, didn't I?" she says. "Sorry about that."

"I knew the job was dangerous when I took it," he tells her. "I just wanted to make sure you weren't uncomfortable."

"Oh, definitely not," she tells him. "Being on top of you is really quite comfortable."

He ducks his head. "That would be the professional flirting. You _are_ good."

"And not always entirely professional," she says with a wink. "It isn't every day that I have a handsome young man at my mercy."

"No question," he says. "I'm completely at your mercy."

"And just look how much your flirting's improved already," she says. The kettle goes off and she pours him a cup. Oh, she knows this is a silly idea, but she's enjoying herself too much to stop. He is handsome in his lanky way, after all, and she likes the way his mouth moves. His body was lithe and alive against hers as he wrapped his arms around her and broke her fall, and it's been too long since she felt really truly desired. She'll take this, even if it's all a performance. He reaches for his tea and cups his hands around the mug, watching her. 

"I'd love to study under you," he tells her, his eyes intense.

"I'll see if I've got any openings," she teases.

He laughs. "Ah, Ms Kingston, I'll never be able to keep up with you."

She raises an eyebrow at him. "You're welcome to try your hand anytime."

"Not a lost cause, then?" he asks.

"Not at all," she tells him. "I don't mind your hands a bit. I'll take a repeat performance any time you like."

He gazes at her. There's something hungry in his eyes now. She isn't feeling the chill in the air anymore. Something between them is sizzling. He sets his mug down deliberately and leans toward her.

"This might seem forward," he begins, "but I'm not feeling very professional right now. So this is me, doing regular flirting. Real flirting. If that's all right."

"Carry on," she says, a little thrill going through her.

He shifts closer. His hand comes up to cup her face; his palm is hot from the tea, and the warmth spreads into her bones. He leans forward slowly, his eyes searching hers. She meets him halfway, bracing her hands on his thighs, unwilling to wait any longer, and she can feel the spark when their mouths meet. The spark falls right onto the dry tinder of her heart; hot desire licks through her veins. She's been cold since she arrived, but right now, she'd swear she's basking somewhere sunny, warm all through and hotter by the second. 

His lips part and she deepens the kiss, sliding her tongue into his mouth. He makes a quiet noise of satisfaction and that's the end of any hope she had of this not being a thing. She can tell that he feels it too. She melts into the kiss, her hands holding onto his knees so that she doesn't float away. She kisses him until it's absolutely too much; she has to break the kiss or she'll fall straight into his lap. She's breathing fast, her chest heaving against the fabric of River's dress. His eyes linger appreciatively on her cleavage as she catches her breath, her hands still on his thighs. Oh, she _wants_ him. She thinks she'll have him - the chance is too good to pass up, and she hasn't had a fling in far too long. 

"I could kiss you for ages," he mumbles, wiping his hand across his mouth. His lips are swollen and pink. It's an excellent look on him. 

"Maybe you'll get the chance," she says. "I might be Mrs. Doctor From The Future, after all. We could have loads of episodes together." 

"There by the grace of Moff go I," he quips. 

"I don't think it's his grace that's going to get you much today," she teases. 

"La belle dame sans merci," he tells her, affection in his voice. 

"You can beg me for that mercy later," she says. "In fact, you might have to."

"If you're dishing it out, I'll take all you've got," he tells her.

She smirks. "Aren't you awfully hot in that tweed?"

"Aren't you awfully hot in that dress?" he returns. 

She preens. "Thank you, dear. But now that you mention it, it might be time to slip into something more comfortable, if you don't mind." She lets her voice get low, lets the meaning of her words settle in. Maybe she shouldn't move this fast, but it feels right.

He swallows hard. "I couldn't possibly mind."

She stands and leans down to kiss him again. His hand is at her waist now, his thumb stroking her ribs. He kisses his way across her cheek to her jaw and down her neck and collarbones. She hums and gasps a little. His mouth really is talented. She's looking forward to working with it.

"You can't mark me up today," she tells him, running a hand through his hair. "Makeup will have a fit."

"Only today?" he teases.

"We'll see how well you do in your audition," she says. She turns her back to him and lifts her hair off the back of her neck and he takes the hint and unzips her. She eases out of the dress with his help; he holds the loose fabric as she wriggles her way free. She hangs the dress on the hook with her coat and faces him. He's still in costume and she tugs at his tweed until he steps forward and kisses her. She slips her hands into the pockets of his coat as her tongue slides against his, and then she draws back, holding a condom in its wrapper.

"Foresight?" she suggests. "Or wishful thinking?"

He blushes. "Kaz keeps putting them in my pockets. Ridiculous, I know. I think she was hoping I'd pull one out on camera."

"Well, I wouldn't want to interfere," Alex says. 

"No!" he says. "It's not like that." He pauses, letting his hair fall over his eyes again. "She keeps telling me I should do something about my crush on you. So this is me, doing something. A hell of a lot more something than I expected, honestly. I wasn't thinking this wishfully." He stops again. "Well. Maybe in my wildest dreams."

"Those are fast-moving dreams," she teases him. "We've barely met."

He shrugs, his smile crooked but so very charming. "Sometimes you know."

The half-shy hope in his eyes melts any objections she might have. She tucks the condom into her bra. "Then let's hope that nobody needs us for the next twenty minutes."

"I need you," he says, and somehow he's gone from gawky young thing to seductive in seconds. It's an impressive transformation. She reaches up and pushes the jacket off his shoulders, kissing him hard. He kisses her back while she liberates his body from the various pieces of his costume, careful not to wrinkle anything. Shagging your coworker is one thing. Getting a tongue-lashing from wardrobe because you've destroyed your costume in the process is quite another. By the time he's struggled out of his boots, she's shucking off his trousers, and he's certainly as gifted as she suspected earlier. 

She nudges him toward the little sofa she sometime naps on, and he sits down and pulls her onto his lap. She straddles his thighs and kisses his as his hands roam over her body. Her knickers are still on, which is something she'll deal with in a moment. Right now she just wants to drink him in. She runs her hands through his hair and over his chest. She can't get enough of him. His body thrums with energy and he kisses like it's the end of the world and he's got to make each one count. He kisses like there's a direct line from his lips to his heart and oh, it's dangerous, but she can't bear to stop. 

It takes her ten of their twenty minutes to build up the will to climb back off his lap so that she can take off her knickers. He watches her, his eyes heavy-lidded, his mouth even redder now. She pulls the condom out of her bra and tosses it to him. He rips open the packet and rolls the latex down over his cock. He is lovely all over, his long limbs somehow knit into a pleasing whole. She can't wait to have her skin against his again. She slips out of her knickers and tosses them over her shoulder. He grins. 

"This is all a bit ridiculous," she points out. "I might as well be twice your age, and we've only known each other a week. I'm not saying it doesn't feel right, but it doesn't make much sense."

"Do you want to stop?" he asks. His barely-there eyebrows are drawn together in worry.

"Absolutely not," she tells him, climbing back onto his lap. "I just thought it was worth mentioning."

"Believe me when I say I've lost sleep over it already," he tells her. She kneels over him, carefully not brushing against the head of his cock. 

"Here's hoping you'll lose more," she murmurs. "Touch me."

"Where?" he asks immediately.

"Everywhere," she tells him.

Those long fingers are stroking down her body almost before she's finished the word. His face brushes her breasts, his lips light and warm against her skin. His fingers slip between her folds deftly, grazing her clit and reaching beyond to spread her slickness. He groans. 

"God, you're wet." His voice sounds almost worshipful.

"You're not the only one who enjoyed the stunts," she tells him. Her head tips back and she gasps as his tongue finds her nipple. His fingers are still stroking along her cunt, gentle but confident. His fingertips find her clit with unerring accuracy and pleasure bursts through her body. She feels so _alive_ and so beautiful in his arms. His other hand is cupping her breasts now as his tongue continues to explore her nipple. When she looks down, his eyes are closed and he's wearing an expression of bliss Pleasure sings through her body, achingly sweet and sweeter every moment. 

She'd swear she could come just from the look on his face. A day's worth of foreplay in the guise of stuntwork certainly hasn't hurt. Add to that the fact that he touches her like he's known her for years and could map her body with his hands by heart and she's _going_ to come, and she can tell by the way her thighs are starting to tense that she's going to come hard. The pleasure is almost too much to bear. She can't help crying out a little, even though the trailer's walls are much too thin. He opens his eyes and stretches up to her in dreamy urgency, swallowing her moans. His fingers are still stroking her, faster and faster as her hips rock against his hand, and then she's over the edge, tumbling down from the heights into his arms. Her legs are trembling under her - somehow she's still kneeling over him. He holds her face with the hand that was on her breasts and kisses her. She'd swear he's breathing as hard as she is. 

"Oh, _fuck_ ," he whispers reverently, caressing her face. 

"Those must have been some dreams," she says when she can speak.

"I couldn't even look at you without getting hard," he says. "Not that this is going to make that situation any easier." 

She smiles at him, full of lazy intent, and reaches down to wrap her fingers around his cock. He's hard and hot; she can feel his pulse pounding. He swallows and lets his head sink back onto the sofa cushion as she lowers herself, inch by careful inch, until he's deep in her. She sighs with pleasure at the feeling of fullness. He clutches at the sofa cushions.

"That's better, wouldn't you say?" she purrs.

"The best," he manages. She can see him fighting the urge to grab her hips and pound up into her. Honestly, she wouldn't mind that at all, but she isn't sure the sofa's sturdy enough.

"You might want to find something to hang onto," she tells him.

"Isn't that one of your lines?" he asks, gasping.

"Doesn't mean it isn't true," she says with a wicked smile. She rises a little and sinks down again. He grabs her hips as if he's dizzy and she's his anchor to the world. She rises and sinks again, rocking down onto him, and now she's the one who's kissing him to stop his moaning. He feels too good inside her - she might even come again, though she's not worried about that. Now she wants to see _him_ come undone. She wants to see the look on his face as she brings him to the heights of pleasure and beyond. She's willing to bet that the ecstasy of Matt Smith will be a sight to remember.

She'd love to spend much longer than the time they've got left exploring his capabilities, but right now, it needs to be fast. She grinds down on him until he's gasping against her mouth. His hands are all over her and she loves it. 

"Let go," she whispers to the corner of his mouth. 

He surges up against her, his thighs surprisingly strong and hard under hers, and she holds on, pressing down against him. He's shivering in her arms, panting against her lips, but his eyes are open this time, gazing into hers. She can see the moment his climax hits him: the light in his eyes glows with a kind of holy brilliance, and then his pupils dilate and his whole body shudders. She lets herself rest on his lap and she pulls his head against her shoulder, stroking his hair. 

It takes an effort to climb back off the sofa. Her body feels like it's melted into his. She stands up stiffly and reaches for one of the wipes she uses to clean her face. She can't leave her trailer like this: she's sure they're both absolutely reeking of sex. Not much to be done about her hair, though. She offers Matt a wipe as well and they clean themselves up together, stealing a kiss now and again. He gets dressed and then helps her with her zip again. They look at each other, smiling helplessly. 

"I really just came to make sure it wasn't weird," he says, taking her hand and lacing his fingers through hers. "Don't get me wrong - I'm chuffed. But I wasn't up to anything. I just didn't want it to be weird."

"Incredibly weird," she says solemnly. "I'm expecting you to make it up to me repeatedly."

"I think I can manage that," he says. 

"Go," she says. "Before Karen starts wondering if her little pocket-rubber scheme worked."

"Bless Karen and her schemes," he says fervently.

"Out," she says, pretending to be firm but pulling him back in by his shirt front for one last kiss. 

"Text me when you're done?" he asks.

"Absolutely," she says, and he gives her a grin and bounds out of her trailer.

"And what have you gotten yourself into now, Kingston?" she asks herself, but she can't stop smiling at her reflection as she tries to tame her hair. 

She had better be in a lot of episodes this series.


End file.
